Page 187 of The Faking Game
“Because she will never have to.” He shoves me, hands against my chest. “That’s what we’re for. That’s what the security teams are for. I willalwaysprotect her.”
“But what about how she feels? Don’t you think she’d sleep better at night knowing she has skills of her own? She’s been terrified, and she’s been too scared to tell you.”
Rafe shakes his head. “I don’t want to hear how well youthinkyou know my sister. Don’t mention her sleeping habits again.”
“Then punch me again,” I say. “We’ve fought before. Give me your worst.”
His shoulders rise. “You don’t know her better than me, and you don’t know what you’re asking for, West.”
“Sure I don’t.” I lift my chin, giving him my uninjured side. “You and your mother have put so much pressure on her to be perfect all the time that she doesn’t even let herself be real around either of you.”
The punch lands hard, and I take a step back from the pressure. “Do not talk about her,” he tells me. There’s nothing of the Raphaël he presents as in front of me now. His bow tie is undone, and there’s glittering rage in his green eyes. “She is not yours.”
“She’s not yours, either. She’s hers.” I shove him away. “Askherwhat she wants.”
“Right, because she’s been the one to set the tone between you, has she? I do know her. She doesn’t date. She’s not interested in relationships, and you have plenty of experience.”
“You have no idea,” I tell him, “what you’re talking about.”
“And I don’t want to.” He walks to the drink cart and grabs the crystal decanter of whiskey by its neck. He raises it toward me, a finger pointed. “Don’t call me. Don’t call her. Stay the fuck away from my family.”
“I can’t promise that,” I tell him. “It’s up to her, man.”
The look of betrayed anger on his face sears me to the core. But I won’t lie to him anymore. He isn’t the arbiter of Nora’s fate, and neither am I.
Only she is.
CHAPTER56
NORA
He doesn’t come to find me.
I walk through the rooms of Fairhaven to find him. Past dancing couples in the grand room, the champagne tower in the conservatory, and the busy terrace. He’s nowhere to be seen.
Because he doesn’t want to be seen.
Maybe… I slip out of my heels to walk barefoot on dewy spring grass down through the gardens to the boathouse.
That’s where I find him. Standing past the boathouse, he’s silhouetted against the darkness, only a faint outline visible against the green light at the end of the dock. It’s windier out here, the sound of waves softly beating against rock and pillar.
“West?” I ask. He turns, and the light reflects on the glass in his left hand. I can’t make out his expression. Can’t see his face properly. “What are you doing out here?”
“Thinking.” He reaches for me, and I let him pull me in. He’s warm despite the late-night winds. Somehow he always is.
“My brother left. I saw him get into a car.” I search the edge of West’s jaw. He won’t meet my eyes. “I thought he was staying here.”
“Change of plans.”
“He’s not going after Ben Wilde, is he?”
“He better not be. Not without me.” He’s tense beneath my hands, and he’s holding me like I’m a lifeline. A buoy.
“Are you okay?”
It takes him a long moment to answer, his lips by my hair. “Yes,” he finally says. “I might be the only one who’s okay in all of this.”
“What happened?”
